


Dear Mircalla

by Martina_318



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types, Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Angst, Epistolary, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9606797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Martina_318/pseuds/Martina_318
Summary: Carmilla writes a letter to herself because she wants to explain how she feel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone, especially to my amazing beta.

Dear Mircalla,

I am here, again.

I'm trying to sleep. I should stay quiet. But. But I can’t do that. I do not want to appear miserable, but tomorrow, I will meet another girl. I just want to confess cause it has been going on so long. 

I have been so fucking down lately. I know what is happening. This goddamn life making me sick. Everything that I have been doing is bad. Now. Now I am just tired. I'm gonna call it quits. It is the same fucking day, every day. I think. I think it might be time for me to leave. But I was of more use here.  
I am sick of this. It is all the same. Only Details change but the fucking game doesn't. I must meet a girl, make friends… and take her to my mother. There is no such thing as justice. All I can take is revenge. I am a coward. I know it. But. But hope is a luxury reserved for other people, not for me.

These hands are not my own. I did I am doing awful things with these fingers. I took a flower the other day. It was my favorite. I am just trying to feel some sensation into it. But it was hopeless. I yearn to be free. I fought, but I have lost so much along the way. I was weak. Probably, I was not good enough. 

I am weak. I am a failure. I do not care. I'm never gonna be somebody whom people can like. Ever. If Ell could not like me, who could? If my family can't accept me, then who could? The words that Ell said as she left broke my chest, resounding in my head.

I have no one to turn to that I could speak with. No one really listens to me, you know. They could not even help me anyway. There is nothing I can do about it. Fifty years ago, I tried to talk with Mattie about this shit. “We call it snacking” was her response. Why is it so complicated? I do not understand. Do not we all have a soul?  
Nothing matters now. I am a broken mess. I need to be fixed. I am Mother's and Will's favorite work in progress. They are changing me piece by piece. It is terrifying. My life is an agony. Blood on my hand. Drink, drink, drink again. It is so easy to kill. How many people did I kill? I have lost track. I'm drowning the pain in blood. No mercy. I am insatiable and unstoppable. 

Nobody can get me through this nightmare. Maybe. Maybe if I finally kill myself it'll stop hurting. It won't scare me anymore. I'll be at a kind of peace. But, I am a coward. No one ever said it would be this hard. I cannot aim the stake right on my chest. Despair is the new survival.  
I am sorry. I tried so hard, thought I could do this on my own.  
I am sorry. I wish you could help me. 

Carmilla

****

 

The day after..  
-“Hey.”  
-“Um, excuse me, but who the hell are you?”  
-“Carmilla. I’m your new roommate sweetheart.”


End file.
